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Conrad wasn’t sure why they’d decided to stop at the fortune teller’s tent. He didn’t even believe in that stuff, not really. But Della had seen it and suggested going in just for fun, and Conrad could never refuse her anything.
Della’s right hand cradled her baby bump as they walked in. The fortune teller noticed this immediately.
“Here to learn your son’s future?” the fortune teller asked.
“How do you know it’s a boy?” Conrad asked.
“I know many things,” the fortune teller said.
Conrad shook his head. Lucky guess. She had a fifty percent chance of getting it right.
“You already have a name picked out,” the fortune teller said. “David.”
“Yes,” Della said, surprised. She sat down across from the fortune teller. “Tell us about him. About David. What is he like?”
“Quiet. Well-behaved.”
“Good,” Conrad said. No child of his was going to be anything but well-behaved.
“But he’ll also be afraid. Anxious.”
Della’s other hand went to her stomach protectively. “Why?”
“Your son will have a terrible condition,” the fortune teller reported. “Invisible but painful. Every touch will cause him to live the future deaths of the one who touches him.”
Della gasped.
“That’s enough,” Conrad said sharply. “Don’t lie to us, just to make your services sound more exciting.”
“I’m telling the truth,” the fortune teller said. “Your son will live a life of loneliness and misery. At just 8 years old he’ll lock himself in his room and he won’t come out.”
An awful silence filled the tent.
“Is there anything we can do?” Della whispered.
The fortune teller shook her head.
“Do we have any more children?” Della asked.
“No. Your life revolves around David’s door, around his needs. There’s no room or time for anything else.”
Tears filled Della’s eyes.
Conrad stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Della. Let’s go.” He didn’t want to hear any more of this nonsense.
They left the tent. They walked in silence back to their small apartment. Della sank down onto the couch, trembling.
“It’s probably bullshit,” Conrad said, but the sinking feeling in his stomach said otherwise. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew: the fortune teller’s prediction was true.
He looked out the window. The fortune teller’s words played in his mind over and over like a cassette. Your son will live a life of loneliness and misery. Your life revolves around David’s door, around his needs. There’s no room or time for anything else.
He took a breath and turned to Della. She was lying down now, her hand on her stomach.
“So now what?” Conrad asked quietly.
Della looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” Conrad said. He couldn’t say it out loud. That felt taboo. But they needed to have this conversation.
“Conrad, no. You can’t seriously be suggesting…”
“Is bringing a child into the world better? I mean, if we know his life is going to be horrible?”
“It won’t be horrible,” Della said. “We’ll make sure of it.”
“There’s only so much we can do,” Conrad said. “Della, please. We need to really think about this. This is his whole life. And what if he’s never able to live on his own? What happens when we get old or…”
Della stared at the wall, tears spilling down her face. She didn’t argue. She didn’t plead.
Conrad knelt down and looked at her. “I’m sorry, Della. I’m not trying to upset you.”
“I know,” she said. She put her hand on his, guiding his hand to rest on her stomach. “You don’t want him to suffer. I understand. Neither do I.”
They sat there in silence. No tension, just heaviness. Della felt doubt creep into her chest. Maybe Conrad was right.
Her stomach fluttered. Then, the smallest kick.
Conrad’s eyes widened. More tears filled Della’s eyes.
“His first kick,” she whispered.
“He knows we’re talking about him,” Conrad said with a watery smile.
Another kick.
“You already have opinions, huh?” Della said. She looked at her husband. “Conrad, I want to meet him.”
“I do too, but…” Conrad faltered. “I just want to do the right thing.” He wished he could ask their future son, Are you happy? Do you wish you’d never been born?
“Me too,” Della said. “And I think this is it. He’ll be loved. So, so loved. No matter what.”
“Is that enough?” Conrad said.
“I hope so,” Della said.
Conrad bent down, pressing his forehead to her stomach. “We won’t have any more kids after this,” he murmured. “The big family you wanted…”
“I know. I know,” Della said softly. “I’m okay with that. I want him, even if it means going without other things.”
“You sure?” Conrad asked.
She nodded.
Conrad took a deep breath. “Okay, then.”